Find Peace In My Arms
by angiewinstr
Summary: Dean has been going somewhere and not telling Sam. Sam is worried and one night Dean finally tells him what's up.


_Where is Dean?_ Sam frowned deeply and glared accusingly at the clock as if it was keeping his brother away. Dean had been mysteriously disappearing twice a week for two months. At first Sam had nagged at Dean to tell him what was going on, but Dean had shut him out. Sam would never admit how much it hurt that Dean wouldn't share what he was doing. So Sam turned the cold shoulder. But he knew the times Dean would leave: 7:00 pm - 8:30 pm on Tuesday and 1:00 pm - 2:30 pm on Saturday. Today was Saturday. It was 5:30. Dean wasn't home.

Sam forced his dinner down his throat, worry clenching his stomach. He had this funny feeling in his gut; a feeling he always got before something terrible happened... usually to Dean. Downstairs of the two story motel he heard the jingle of the front door's bells and then a slam. His heart leapt into his mouth. He was out of the chair like lighting and in two long strides, he was by the door. Before he could reach the doorknob, it turned and Dean walked in. The relief that flooded Sam made his shoulders visibly sag. "Dean!" He choked out. He felt the sudden need to hug his brother but resisted the urge.

"Hey, Sammy. You okay, dude? You look like a ghost." Sam laughed a little too hard, his relief hard to contain.

"You never know with what we do." Sam grinned stupidly.

"No, I don't mean you saw one. I mean you _look_ like one!" Dean eyed Sam with a half-smirk and tilted his head in a confused expression. "Seriously though. What's up?" Sam laughed.

"Nothing! Just... no! Glad to see you, that's all."

"Well, thanks I guess." Dean shot Sam another strange look. "You gonna let me in?"

"Oh! Sorry." Dean brushed past Sam and sat down heavily at the round, wooden table.

"Got some grub for me?" Sam scurried to the stove where he had slopped a can of soup into a pot and heated it up. As he scooped out the food, he watched Dean out of the corner of his eye. He noticed Dean's slumped shoulders and the way his head slowly bobbed forward before he would jerk it back. It wasn't as if he was tired and falling. It looked like a heavy burden lay over his head and the weight of it pressed down on him. Dean's right eye was rimmed with red and looked overly watery. He blinked as if holding back tears. The happiness Sam had experienced at the sight of Dean disappeared, replaced by a heavy weight in his heart. Something serious was wrong and Sam needed to share in the burden Dean carried.

The bowl hit the table with a soft clink as Sam set it before Dean. The small noise made Dean jump. It was a barely noticeable start but Sam saw it clearly. His brother was never skittish. Never. Dean began spooning in the food hungrily and Sam took his seat across from him. As they ate in silence, Sam brooded over his bowl, his eyes never leaving Dean, catching his every move. Dean glanced up and Sam quickly looked away. "Dude, why are you staring at me? It's kinda creeping me out. Is something wrong?" Sam couldn't believe Dean. Anyone with eyes could see something was wrong. Yet his concern was directed not at himself but for his little brother. Sam bit his lip before starting to talk hesitantly.

"Dean. I know you've told me to lay off and not worry so much and to stop asking where you're going. And I've stopped bugging you. But you look awful. I mean, come one, man, you're my brother and I'm worried about ya." A slight smile brightened Dean's haggard face.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not worry so much?" He said softly and smiled a tired smile that absolutely terrified Sam. It wasn't Dean's usual playful grin. And this smile was for Sam._ He's pitying me. What the hell! He's the one who looks like he was just brought back from the dead._

"Sammy." The soft voice was still in use. "I know you're worried and you don't know what's going on and you feel out of control and you want to help. Trust me, I know." The pain in his eyes as he said 'Trust me' caused Sam's heart to feel like it was being wrung out. "But I don't want to hurt you. You'll worry more and want to be over helpful. And, gosh, you can be a pretty damn annoying mother hen." Sam looked down with a half-grin. _Oh, damn you, Dean. Stop being so selfish. You can't leave me out cuz I'm a worry wart. You can't leave me out cuz you want to protect me._

"It's just." Sam sighed and looked up blinking away the unexpected rush of tears. It took a moment before he gained his composure. "Hey, man. I'm here for you. Don't hesitate to tell me anything. When you're ready to tell me, tell me." He reached out and gripped Dean's fist. He spoke around the ball in his throat and forced his voice to sound strong. "I'll wait for you. Always." He couldn't say anymore unless he wanted to flood the motel's cramped kitchen.

"Hey, Sammy, no chick-flick moments. You know I hate this sappy stuff." The confidence had returned to Dean's voice. Sam clenched his teeth and lent Dean a quick nod. He stared down at his half-eaten soup, ashamed at how obvious his emotions must have be. Dean pulled his hand away from Sam but not before Sam felt the quick warmth of Dean's callused hand on top of his own. "I'm beat. Gonna go hit the sack." Dean left Sam to clean up the bowls. But instead Sam stared at his soup, trying to ignore the growing hole in his heart and thinking of everything he should have said but what he had left in hidden in his soul.

-o-

Dean's bedroom door closed with a quiet click. He pressed his forehead against the pine wood and breathed in the spicy scent. Seeing Sam on the edge of breaking down almost made him confess everything. But he knew it would kill Sam. So he had once again assumed the role of tough big brother. He had to get away though before Sam's hurt shattered the act._ I can't put Sam through this. I've been doing fine for six months. I can take care of this myself. I've got to leave Sam._ Finally, Dean had something to do. A mission. Instead of wallowing in self-pity and gooey feelings. He began moving precisely, shoving his possessions and clothes into his dark green duffel bag. With all the traveling Sam and he did, they had become experts at packing quickly and heading out. As soon as everything was cleared and packed tightly in the bag, Dean surveyed the bare room. Suddenly, all the tiredness built up inside him hit and he sat on the bed, exhausted. I'll just lie down for a few minutes...

-o-

"Dean! It's fine. You're fine. Just calm down. Deep breathes in and out. Yeah, that's it." _Sam's voice echoed around Dean. His vision was blurry as he searched wildly for Sam._

"Sam! Sammy! Where are you!?" _Then Sam's face appeared, calm and relaxed. His soothing voice told Dean to relax and everything would be okay. Tears started streaming down Dean's face._ "Sammy, don't leave. I don't want to lose you. I'm not gonna be able to protect you. I need to see you. NO! You're fading. Sam! Sam!" _Sam's face began to be covered with spots of black. Then he disappeared as the blackness grew and covered him. And then Dean's vision was completely black._ "Come back! Where are you? Please. Come back! Where are you? Please. Come back to me. Sam. Sammy."

"Shhhhhhhh."

"Sammy."

-o-

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh. It's okay. It's okay. Shhhhh."

"Sammy." Dean whimpered.

"Shhh." Dean felt arms holding him. A large hand stroked his hair. Warm breath tickled his eyelashes. He realized he was gripping folds of the front of Sam's shirt in both fists. Without opening his eyes, he knew it was Sam, comforting him. He must have been shouting out during his nightmare. He felt the soft pad of Sam's thumb as he wiped away the tears clinging to his face. He pulled himself closer to Sam's chest and snuggled into the warmth of their shared body heat. Sam squeezed Dean closer and he felt calmer in the tight embrace. Safe. Sam was here. It didn't matter whether or not Dean could see Sam. He knew he was there. And when Sam was there, Dean was safe. It was unusual for Dean to feel protected by Sam. Dean always thought it was his job to protect Sam and he never let himself become weak enough to need protection. But right now he desperately needed Sam. To keep him safe.

Dean tangled his legs with Sam's, clutched his shirt tighter, and buried his face against Sam's chest, breathing in his scent. Sam's chin rested on the top of Dean's head. They lay there in silence. The steady beat of Sam's heart sounded in Dean's ear, their breathing in sync. "Sam?" Sam grunted in response. "I... I wanna tell you what's goin' on." Behind his closed eyes, he could almost see Sam's ears perk up as he felt his body tense slightly. Sam waited quietly, giving Dean time to collect his thoughts. _Damn, this is harder than I thought._ He sighed then took a deep breath and plowed into his speech. "So you know I've been gone a lot." He felt Sam nod. "And, well, as much as I hate 'em and hate to admit this, I've been seeing doctors." He spit out the word, it not being worthy to stay in his mouth for too long. He heard Sam sigh.

"You must be pretty far gone if you let yourself go to doctors." Sam joked but pulled Dean closer. Dean could feel the vibrations of Sam's voice when he spoke. He felt Sam's fingers squeeze his sides and his thumbs slowly rub up and down.

"Yeah. I've danced around this and kept it from you too long. No more of that. Here's the straight out truth. I'm going blind, Sam." No reaction. Silence rang in Dean's ear. Sam was totally still. When a few minutes past, Dean almost spoke, but Sam began to talk.

"I'll take care of you. Don't you worry. I'm not leaving you. I don't care if you're gonna give me crap about being a mother hen or whatever, but it doesn't matter. Even if you'll never admit this, you need me, Dean. And I need you. We aren't deserting each other. We've been through worse and we're gonna get through this just as fine." Relief spread through Dean leaving a comfortable tiredness. Sam would take care of hm. No need to worry anymore.

"Sam," Dean slurred with sleepiness.

"Yeah?"

"I like feeling your voice when you talk. Talk to me." Sam chuckled

"I don't know what to say."

"Then sing to me." A moment of silence. Then Sam began quietly singing Dead or Alive. Dean pulled himself deeper into Sam's embrace and fell asleep to the rumble of Sam's voice.

-o-

Dean's breathing had slowed. _He must be asleep. I can't believe he didn't tell me before. He must have had it longer than two months because there is no way he'd go to a doctors unless it was really bad. It must be painful. I wonder how bad it is. How long until he's totally blind? How did he get it? What is going on? I NEED ANSWERS._ If he hadn't been holding Dean, he would have stayed up all night researching what could be wrong. Instead he lay awake for hours thinking about how different things would be. But one thought occupied his mind: Dean had had to suffer through this alone. _He must be going through a lot if he gave in and told me. I can't even imagine handling this on my own._ Sam lay there, feeling like it was his duty to lie awake and protected Dean. This was the only thing he could do and even thought it was so small, he would do it the best he possibly could. The darkness surrounded him and for the first time in years, Sam prayed.

-o-

Every Tuesday and Saturday, Sam accompanied Dean to the doctors'. At first, Dean was too embarrassed to willingly let Sam into the room but Sam insisted. Now before the doctor came into the office they'd sit together holding hands. Sam had never seen Dean so frightened. He thought that before Dean must have been acting like his tough self before Sam came but now everything was too much and he couldn't handle his illness plus his image. So Sam took all the confidence on himself. For once he was the big brother. And he liked it cuz of the way Dean looked at him for help and how he didn't mind sleeping in the same bed and how he was completely open with Sam.

Dean seemed so vulnerable and Sam did everything in his power to protect him. He had never had someone so dependent on him like this. After every appointment once the doctor left, Sam would hold Dean close and kiss his forehead and reassure him that everything would be fine. It would work out. But he was beginning to have doubts. The doctors did nothing but check his eyes (Dean said what they did made his eyes burn even more), prescribe new meds, and then tell him how to adjust to being blind. Sam got very protective during these talks and always interrupted the doctors, saying he could do that for Dean or he'd make sure he took his meds. Dean consistently reminded Sam that he wanted him to keep hunting, to have a life. He didn't want to hold him back. Sometimes Sam thought Dean cared more about Sam then himself. And that was true.

-o-

Dean loved his car and Sam could always tell Dean's mood or how well he felt depending on whether or not he let Sam drive. So when Dean let Sam drive for three weeks straight, something serious was wrong. One day as Sam and Dean were driving home from a late night hunt that Dean always insisted on coming on (he wasn't leaving his work until he was entirely blind, damn it!) Dean said the most terrible thing Sam could have ever imagined.

"Sam, I'm giving you the Impala."

"What?!" Sam glanced at Dean in shock.

"Don't wreck the frickin' car I just gave you! Not cool!" Sam trained his eyes back on the road.

"Dean, are you okay? Be completely honest." Ever since the night Dean told Sam about his blindness, they had been unusually open and honest with each other.

"I can't see well enough to drive. Anyhow I won't be able to drive her soon so I want to enjoy driving while I can. Just seeing the road and trees fly by." Sam hated so much when Dean was sentimental. It hurt too much to hear the sadness. But he silently accepted the biggest gift his brother could ever give.

-o-

The night Dean had the nightmare and the night of the confession, Sam had noticed the packed bag. He hadn't asked Dean about it but kept a close eye on him to make sure he didn't try to escape. Dean thought his blindness would kill Sam but never seeing his brother again would be the worst possible punishment. Dean was lying on the couch one muggy night eyes closed.

"Dean?" Sam walked into where Dean lay and sat on an armchair across from him.

"What?"

"I've been wondering, why were you so late that one Saturday?"

"The doctors rushed me to a crapload of tests cuz my condition had taken, their words not mine, a drastic turn in the wrong direction." He imitated the doctors in a high, whiny voice making Sam giggle like a little boy. "Gosh, everyday I think of about 1000 things I'll miss seeing. Your dimples are at the top of that list." Not knowing why, Sam felt a blush creep up the back of his neck but he willed it to not reach his face. He sputtered out something that sounded somewhat like "Aw, thanks, man." A broad grin spread over Dean's face, the first real grin in weeks.

"Sammy's all flustered. Sammy doesn't know what to say."

"Come on, you little jerk."

"No, you're my bitch."

"I ain't nobody's bitch and especially not yours." Sam tackled an unexpecting Dean and quickly pinned him to the couch. Laughing Dean looked up at Sam who lay above him with enormous hands pinning down Dean's broad shoulders. Dean reached up through Sam's arms and poked his face.

"Cute little dimples on a cute little baby."

"I'll slap you! Don't think I won't!"

"Ooooh you wanna play it that way?" Sam growled. "Nice, Sammy. Good boy."

"I bet I can-"

"Ow!" Dean squeezed his eyes shut and his face went deathly white. "My head! It feels like it's gonna explode. Sam, are my eyes closed? I can't see. I can't see you." Dean was so calm that Sam didn't realize this was the moment they were waiting for.

"Oh, God. Please no. Help Dean. Please. Take away the pain."

"Sam." Dean grimaced again and clutched his head. Sam realized he was still hovered over Dean, frozen in shock.

"I'm calling the Emergency Room. Don't do anything." Sam hastily crawled off of Dean whipped out his cellphone and dialed 911. In two minutes he had an ambulance on the way. "Dean, buddy how are ya?"

"Ugh, it's this... throbbing pain. It comes and goes... in pulses. I think it's gone but then it comes back... even more... severe." It took effort to ignore the pain and get out each word. When Dean yelled, Sam felt panic and rushed to his side scooping him in his arms. His last word before he passed out was "Sammy."

-o-

Sam was ready to punch every nurse who came in and spoke in their light voices to tell him Dean was fine. He wanted to break down the waiting room's white walls and go to Dean's side. The beeping of machines in the still air was going to drive him crazy any minute now. "Are you Sam Winchester, Dean's brother?" Sam jumped to his feet at the sound of the lady's voice.

"Yes, I am."

"You can go see your brother now. He wasn't doing well before but the doctor's stabilized him." _Finally, an honest person. I like her._ She led him to room 207 and he almost broke down the door as he eagerly entered. He tried to ignore the tubes sticking out of various places in Dean. He did not like the thought of nurses sticking his brother with needles.

"Oh, dear. It looks like he fell asleep again. We gave him some pretty powerful pain killer and those really knock you out."

"That's fine. I'll stay here." He turned his back to her and pulled a seat as close as possible to Dean's bed. He didn't even glance back when she said "okay" and left, closing the door behind her.

-o-

He waited without doing anything for two hours. At various times, nurses entered the room to make sure Dean was okay. Sam didn't say a word to any of them. Finally at 2:30 in the morning, Dean stirred. Sam leaned forward eyes fixed on the pale face.

"Dean? You up?"

"Sammy?" Dean's eyes opened. Sam wanted to throw up when he saw the confusion and lost look in Dean's eyes. His beautiful green eyes were foggy, glazed, and blood shot. "Where are you?" He reached out a hand that Sam grasped. He choked back a sob. Swallowed.

"I'm here. I'm here. It's 2:30 and you were zonked for at least three or four hours."

"I missed hearing you worry. It got really confusing in here. Lots of noise but I couldn't see what it was." He closed his eyes. "No use drying out these beauties." Sam squeezed Dean's hand harder.

"I want you to know-"

"Sam, I see light!" A childish grin spread across Dean's face. His eyes were still closed. "It's light! Sammy, it's light!" And then his head fell against the pillow. His heart monitor started a high pitch whine. The rest happened in a blur. Sam didn't realize he was shouting until doctors rushed into the room. He screamed at them and leaned over Dean pulling his limp body into his arms. Then he was being dragged away and he fought to get back to his brother. The last he saw of Dean was his body jolt as they electrocuted him.

-o-

Sam woke to someone saying his name. Disoriented he searched the room having no idea where he was. Then it all hit him like a punch in the gut. "How is he?" He demanded. A different lady nurse about twenty five stood in front of him.

"It took three hours but he's stable now. If you want, you can see him for a minute, but he's sleeping." _Hell, of course I want to see him._ Dean looked completely different. Sunken in cheeks. Pale face and lips. Hollow eyes. The sight was too much and Sam left after a few minutes. After three weeks of Sam visiting the hospital everyday and often spending the nights, Dean was finally released and headed "home" to the motel they were staying at.

-o-

Sam did everything in his power to make Dean comfortable. He wanted coffee? He got coffee. He had a headache? Feet up, lie back, ibuprofen, and rest. Shoulders hurt? He got a back massage. Dean was adjusting well. He began enjoying sound appreciating touch more. Sam hummed a lot so Dean knew he was there. The curtains were open so Dean could feel the sun. They still traveled and Sam went on hunts because Dean insisted. It was now a given that they slept together. Dean may need water. Or pain medicine. Or comfort after a nightmare.

Tonight was a nightmare night. Sam couldn't sleep that night. He lay on his back with Dean's head on his chest and arms wrapped around him. Dean was extra fidgety tonight, rolling his head and kicking his legs. Then he started whimpering so Sam stroked his back. Then he began screaming out "Sammy!" and sat up in his sleep. Sam sat up and shook Dean.

"Wake up!" Dean's eyes flew open then he closed them.

"I had a nightmare. You died." He fell back onto the bed. Sam lay down beside him and propped himself up on his elbow. He placed his free hand on Dean's chest.

"I'm here still. Can't get rid of me that fast." Dean held Sam's hand.

"I wouldn't want to get rid of you." He spoke so quietly. "My shoulders hurt."

"Roll over." Dean did as commanded. Sam began massaging Dean's tight shoulders. He worked his way up and down Dean's well-muscled back. Dean moaned with pleasure.

"That's nice. Thanks." He mumbled into the pillow. After a bit, Dean rolled on his back. He groped up Sam's chest to his face and then poked.

"Dimples." Sam smiled and Dean felt the dimples. "Even though I can't see them, I know they're there. And that's all that matters." Sam leaned down to put his head on Dean's chest and hugged him close. He was almost asleep when Dean said, "Sam, I want you to know something."

"What?"

"I love you." Sam lifted his head up.

"I love you, too." In that moment Sam felt like he'd never see Dean again and he couldn't control himself. Slowly, he bent over Dean and tenderly kissed him on the lips. Dean grabbed Sam roughly by the hair and pulled him in for another. Then he pushed him back still holding his hair.

"Look, now. That's enough of this. You need to move on from me, okay? Promise me you'll move on." Sam had no idea what meant. Dean yanked his hair and hissed through gritted teeth. "Promise." Sam nodded hesitantly and then Dean pulled him in a strong embrace. They fell asleep.

-o-

The next morning Sam woke to an empty bed. Instantly he panicked. He lept out of bed and yelled for Dean. He found him sprawled on the kitchen floor. Motionless. "DEAN!" He didn't care if his shouting disturbed other people. He dropped to his knees, the tears starting to fall. He pulled Dean into his arms and held him close.

"Sammy." He reached and poke his face weakly. And then he was gone. Sam could not speak. He sat there for hours clutching Dean until someone found him there lying on the ground bleakly. He didn't understand where they were taking Dean. He sobbed uncontrollably and all he could say was "I love you."


End file.
